Master & Commander (Aubrey/Maturin 1) by Patrick O’Brian

It’s at such times I realize how falling in love with a book is so similar to falling in love with a person. You don’t really know why it’s happening, but you feel a connection, a feeling of hopeful expectation, which over time, if you’re lucky, is happily confirmed. Or at least that’s how I do it :)

If you like historical fiction, sooner or later you’ll hear about Patrick O’Brian. I’ve been meaning to give him a try for a long time, but was afraid – when I read stories set at sea I often have no idea what’s happening because of the naval-speak, it’s almost like a foreign language.

The truth is, I did get lost at times while reading M&C, but I worked for my reward. I used Wikipedia, Google Earth, O’Brian’s fandom, videos of boats maneuvering on YouTube, and watching the movie also helped. Even with this amount of information there were times when I lost my thread, but soon realized that O’Brian uses the same tricks as the wonderful Dorothy Dunnett: they throw you into the action and ask you to go along until everything is explained. That’s when you become aware what an amazing time you’re actually having.

Also like Dunnett, O’Brian is completely at easy with cultural references. He mentions obscure details which must have involved a lot of research (see Johnson’s quote below), without insulting the reader with an explanation. The only time he does this is right at the start of the book, when Stephen is taken on a tour of the Sophie, but like us, he also feels an information overload. It’s said O’Brian kept a 1810 edition of Encyclopaedia Britannica close to him while he worked, as well as early editions of Jane Austen, who he thought the finest of all novelists.

M&C is first book of a series of 21 (!) books. It’s here that Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin meet. Jack is a British lieutenant who’ll soon become master and commander of HMS Sophie and Stephen is a half-Irish/half-Catalan physician and naturalist who’s fallen on hard times and so decides to join the Sophie.

I’ve been trying to pin-point what exactly grabbed me so much. There’s 1) the vivid images of life aboard the brig, including the use of language that could be taken out of a real 18th century novel.

‘You know Dr. Johnson – Dictionary Johnson?’ ‘Certainly,’ cried Stephen, looking strange. ‘The most respectable, the most amiable of the moderns. I disagree with all he says, except when he speaks of Ireland, yet I honour him; and for his Life of Savage I love him.’

2) There’s the wit, which was a surprise until I knew he was an Austen fan.

‘There is a systematic flocci-naucinihilipilification* of all other aspects of existence that angers me.’

‘I have done with all debate. But you know as I, patriotism is a word; and one that generally comes to mean wither my country, right or wrong, which is infamous, or my country is always right, which is imbecile.’

‘I have never yet known a man admit that he was either rich or asleep: perhaps the poor man and the wakeful man have some great moral advantage.’

Also, 3) Stephen showed enough potential to likely become a Great Favorite, and may even be invited to my select dinner of fictional characters, if he plays his cards right. There are many layers to him, and an interesting past. (It also helps that Paul Bettany played him so perfectly in the movie.)

M&C has 4) one of the best opening scenes ever, probably because it’s so unexpected in a book about war and naval life. It begins at a concert. Still strangers, Jack and Stephen sit next to each other. Jack is so focused on the music that he start to tap to the beat. This annoys Stephen so much (Jack wasn’t even being accurate!) that they almost agree on a duel (the start of The Three Musketeers, anyone?). In the end, it’ll be this mutual love of music that’ll unite them. Another favorite was the 5) lovely scene where they play together for the first time.

‘I am really pleased with tonight’s exercise,’ said Jack, tuning his fiddle. ‘Now I feel I can run inshore with a clearer Conscience – without risking the poor sloop too much.’

‘I am happy you are pleased; and certainly the mariners seemed to ply their pieces with a wonderful dexterity; but you must allow me to insist that that note is not A.’

‘Ain’t it?’ cried Jack anxiously. ‘Is this better?’

Stephen nodded, tapped his foot three times, and they dashed away into Mr Brown’s Minorcan divertimento. ‘Did you notice my bowing in the pump-pump-pump piece?’ asked Jack. ‘I did indeed. Very sprightly, very agile. I noticed you neither struck the hanging shelf nor yet the lamp. I only grazed the locker once myself.’

I never studied literature and usually don’t think about the narration style, unless it’s either 6) especially good or especially bad. I did notice M&C’s narrator. It was like a camera that gets close to a character, then subtly moves to another only to, seemingly without a break, open the angle for a wider view. Author Jo Walton, when talking about O’Brian’s narrator on Tor.com said,

There’s also the camera eye omni, that sees everything but never gets drawn close to anything. There is a variant of that I call Lymondine, which can be seen in Dorothy Dunnett and Guy Gavriel Kay, where you’re usually very closely in somebody’s head but occasionally you pull right away and get a distant perspective. O’Brian’s glide is closest to that, but it’s also really different. He draws in and out almost imperceptibly. It’s very effective and very addictive.

It cannot be a coincidence that I’m such a fan of these three authors. If you spot any other good examples of this “camera eye omni”, send them my way.

Post Captain, the next book in the series, is set mostly in country houses and apparently it’s as much a novel of manners as a naval story. It’s said to be O’Brian’s homage to Austen. How can I resist? :)

Browsing the fan sites I saw this great quote: “You know that’s not just a series of books, right? It’s a major lifestyle decision. You start reading those and you grow a new space in your brain devoted to them.” I don’t doubt it!

And another fan said: “Will someone write as lovingly about the Internet Age in 170 years as O’Brian wrote of the Age of Sail?” That’s a great image, and it does make you wonder…

18 comments

I like the comment about these books as lifestyle choice. I’ve never read one, maybe for that reason. I’m reluctant to commit to so many books. But they do have a large number of fans. I suspect you’ll be reading a few more sometime soon.

I plan on starting this series after I finish the Morland Dynasty in just a few months (another lifestyle choice series, 33 books with one more to come). Jenny has been after me to read these for years and years, and I’m finally taking the plunge soon. She said the first book might not win me over (she was ready to put money on my being hooked by book 3), but your review makes me optimistic that I’ll enjoy it from the start.

What I’m clearly surprise is that he was a fan of Jane Austen, and this is a book about men (at least the movie) i.e. the opposite; in JA no dialogues between men alone and here no dialogues between women alone…. a contradiction or consistency?

As someone who has made that lifestyle choice (perhaps a little too much) I can certainly agree. I identify more with Stephen, a hopeless landlubber, but am fascinated by ropes, sails and all the other incomprehensible technical devices that comprise that wonderful conveyance, the sailing ship.

I hope your travels through Internet fandom found my slightly (well very) obsessive attempts to map the voyages described in the books and that those maps were helpful.

These books were so popular when I worked at an independent bookstore in a rich, WASPy neighborhood during college that I fear i will forever associate them with men in khakis, button-down shirts and leather loafers. I do have a fondness for series, and I’m curious. You may have inspired me to actually pick one up. If nothing else, I’ll appreciate an excuse to use Google Earth to see the water:-)

@cbjames: I think it’s more than time commitment, I imagine that if you’re a fan your interests also change (or are added to). I hear there are gatherings of fans and events. Maybe one even starts getting more attracted towards uniforms ;)

@Ti: Moby Dick always intimidated me. Together with Hemingway, I put them in the “books for guys” pile. But reading M&C actually made me re-think that prejudice.

@Teresa: I thought about you and the Morland Dynasty while reading this. Those are also quite a commitment. I think you’ll like these as well and would definitely support Jenny’s recommendation (didn’t know she was a fan!). Boook 3, hem?

@Andre: I’m looking forward to seeing how O’Brian handles longer female dialogues, as I expect he had to write for Book 2. Thanks for the photo :)

@Tom: Welcome to my humble blog! It was your maps I kept around while reading M&C, so it’s great that you dropped by (hurrah for Google Alerts?). I suspect I’ll go to your site quite often in the upcoming years. You might even receive an email from me with any persistent question I won’t find the answer to – hope you won’t mind :)

@nomadreader: LOL! I wonder what attracted those types of readers to these books…

This one sounds amazing! Far more than I assumed at first. I actually love books that send me to the internet sufficient number of times, which I have to do when reading classics. I end up learning a whole lot more than I expected.

I have read the series twice and listened to the audio books once. Someday, when I begin the series again, I will re-pack my sea locker, climb aboard the Sophie, and take comfort in knowing that the “The music-room in the Governor’s House at Port Mahon, a tall, handsome, pillared octagon, (will be) filled with the triumphant first movement of Locatelli’s C major quartet.”

Alex,
When you get around to listening to them on audiobooks, all major libraries in the U.S. have free download sites for their patrons. All of the books are available at the sites and are narrated by Simon Vance. There are those who prefer narration by the late Patrick Tull, but I find Simon Vance more suitable to my tastes. There is nothing better to staunch my insomnia than 10-20 minutes of Patrick O’Brian as told with a British accent. Gil

I know I am joining this discussion a bit late, but I find when I read O’Brian’s books I just let the nautical jargon wash over me. I have a vague idea they are talking about various ship parts. I understand some terms but not all. I still enjoy the books a lot. I guess this makes me like Stephen Maturin who goes through all the books quite clueless about sailing.